Rebirth
by L.D. Eddy
Summary: It all starts with a bang. *AU* Don't kill me! Right now, rated T. Subject to change. Oc is Clarice Shawe, aka The Reaper. But you all figured that didn't you, since Scarecrow is one of the characters?


_**BANG**_

"No!" The shriek that came forth from the Reaper was almost inhuman. "Jonny!" She sobbed. Tears dripped heavily down her face.

She fought hard against the officers holding her. Harder than she ever had before.

It wasn't too long before she broke free and ran as fast as she could to where Jonathan had fallen. The crowd had gone silent. Nobody moved to retrieve her.

She tore her masks off and pulled off his.

"J-Jonny?" She whispered, pulling his head into her lap.

"'R-Ricie?" He managed to say.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, it's me," Clarice ran her hand through his hair.

"Cold," He groaned.

"No, no no, no. You aren't leaving me just yet, you asshole," She mumbled. "No! No, you can't!"

"D-did good," He smiled goofily at her.

"No, don't leave me here!"

"M-mis-s you."

"No," She sobbed. "Not you, not you. Anyone but you, not you."

"Y-you're...my best...friend," He gasped. "L-love...you."

Jonathan let out his last breath.

Clarice sobbed even harder.

"No! No, you can't leave me! You _can't_." She pulled him close, wrapping herself around him. "_I love you too_. You can't...you can't leave me. Not alone. I can't be alone. Can't be without you."

A shadow crossed over them.

"Clarice," The shadow whispered.

"Can't be alone. Not without you. No. Can't...I can't," Clarice cried, shaking heavily.

The shadow knelt down beside them and wrapped an arm around her.

"I have to take him now."

"No! No, you can't. You can't have him. He's-he's mine. You can't have him."

"You know I have to, child. He is gone."

"You can't! I-I can't...I can't be without-"

"He'll always be with you, Clarice."

"I can't live without him. We've gone through so much together. We escaped Hell."

"Yes, you did. Clarice, I must take him now."

"Why? Why him?"

"It was his time. Fate."

"There is no such thing as fate."

"You believed once-"

"He was always right," Clarice whispered, looking down at Jonathan's pale face. She pressed a shaky kiss to his cold temple. "There is no fate. There is no God."

"You are being tested, child."

"I am not a child. This is no test. This is death. This is the natural way. Jonathan was always right."

"Your faith is being-"

"There is no God! Only man...and man brings death," Clarice muttered angrily, clutching Jonathan closer. "And pain."

"Child-"

"Leave me."

"I must-"

"Leave us!"

The shadow froze before reaching over to Jonathan and letting its hand hover over his heart. The shadow's hand lightened slightly and Jonathan's body felt heavier to Clarice.

"His soul will be judged, Clarice. I hope, for your sake, that he is-"

"Jonathan and I have _never_ been good."

"Then I hope you are proven wrong," The shadow whispered, caressing Clarice's face. Clarice felt a slight tingle at its touch.

The shadow floated away.

Clarice closed her eyes.

Eventually, another shadow crossed over them.

This one was bat-shaped and had a growly voice.

"You need to let the paramedics-"

"He's dead," She whispered.

"Clarice, he can-"

"He's dead, Batman," She turned her head to look at the crusader. "I'm alone. Forever. I can't- I can't live without-"

Batman knelt by her and Jonathan and stayed by her side.

He stayed by her as the medical team arrived.

He stayed by her when they pronounced Jonathan Crane had died from a gunshot wound.

He stayed by her when they tore him from her grasp and covered him with a white sheet.

She said nothing, staring blankly ahead as the world spun on around her.

The only time he left her side was to attend to Gordon.

"She needs to be brought to the Asylum, Batman," He had muttered.

Batman looked over at the broken woman. She was clutching the Scarecrow's mask in her hands as if it was the only thing that was keeping her alive. And maybe it was.

"Give her a moment, Jim," He muttered.

"We've given her an hour, Batman. She needs to be brought to the Asylum."

"Let me take her to the Watchtower."

"The mayor will not go along with that. She's a danger."

"How could she be a danger on a tower full of heroes, Jim?"

Gordon sighed and ran a hand through his thick white hair.

"I'll see if I can get the mayor to swing for it, but for now, she belongs at Arkham."

Batman nodded before walking back to Reaper.

"Clarice, you need to come with me," He murmured.

"I can't. I can't go without him, Batman."

"Clarice-"

"I can't be without him."

He tried to pull her to her feet, but her legs buckled beneath her.

He knelt down and lifted her into his arms.

It felt like he was carrying a doll; he'd never truly noticed how much smaller than him she was.

He walked over to the Batmobile and set her down in it before climbing in beside her.

She was still clutching at the mask.

He didn't have the heart to take it from her.

The ride to Arkham was quiet, and slow. He didn't want her to leave her to the care of the doctor's there.

They wouldn't let the woman grieve.

They'd immediately start picking around in her brain.

She would be better off at the Watchtower – or even at Wayne Manor, with him.

She crawled over the seat to him and curled up next to him.

She cried into his suit.

He didn't care.

Eventually they reached the asylum.

"Clarice?" He asked gently. "Are you ready?"

"No."

"No?"

"I can't. Not without Jonathan."

He didn't have the heart to correct her.

"He'll be along soon. I promise."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Batman always keeps his promises?"

"Yes. I do."

He picked her up out of the Batmobile and carried her into patient intake.

Cash was waiting with a sympathetic frown on his face.

"Come on, Clarice," He said quietly.

"Not without Jonathan," She mumbled.

Cash looked up at Batman.

Batman shook his head slowly.

Cash sighed.

"He'll be here soon, Clarice. Let's just get you taken care of first, and then we'll take care of Jonathan. Alright?"

"Okay."

She was looked over, washed, and brought to her cell.

No one took the mask from her.

She never let go of it.

She was never made to let go of it.

Clarice held the burlap in her hands and stared down at it.

It had been a month since Jonathan's death and her break down. She hadn't spoken a word to anyone since. Deborah and Edward had stuck by her. They didn't leave her. She knew it hurt them, though. It always hurts when someone you loved left. Like Jonathan had left her.

He was coming back though. She knew it.

He always came back to her.

They had been lovers.

They were best friends.

She kept her eyes on the mask, memorizing every stitch, every stain every-

The eyehole winked at her.

**Stare hard enough, 'Ricie, and you might burn a hole into it.**

"Jonny?"

**He's around here somewhere.**

"Scarecrow, then."

**Yep. How you doin'?**

"I missed you."

**We missed you too.**

"Is it still us against the world?"

_**Of course, 'Ricie.**_

* * *

_**A/N: Agh! Don't kill me! There's a purpose to this, but I'm not sure what it is yet!**_

_**Anyway, review.**_

_**Oh, and who do you think that shadow was? : D**_

_**Oh, p.s. This is going to be quite a story :)**_

_**Oh, just to let you know that in the thoughts, bold is Scarecrow, italics is Jonathan, and underlined or normal or quotes is Clarice. All three – bold, italics, underlined – is all three.**_

_**And bold and italics in quotes is all three but spoken.**_

_**Pretty simple-ish.**_

_**Ta!**_


End file.
